


If Things Were Different (they just wouldn't be the same)

by sinspiration



Series: the kent/aces grouplove au [3]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Assumptions, Feelings, M/M, Multi, They are Made, and they are Very Wrong, but it ends up alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 00:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8823517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/pseuds/sinspiration
Summary: “We’ll figure it out,” Jack says hoarsely, when Bitty is done and sobbing again. “Even if I’ve got to keep them all away myself, we’ll figure it out.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> An AU of My Kent/Aces AU. Doesn’t really take place in canon Kent/Aces, but let’s say somehow Jack got traded to the Aces. Then this might’ve happened.
> 
> Warnings: assumptions of abuse that in absolutely no manner are true.

They all find out before it’s officially released, and Kent goes around looking so brittle he might snap in two. The team tries their best to help, and DJ practically moves in with him, sleeping over every night while the rest of them cycle through in shifts. Kent clings to them and shows in every way he can how grateful he is, but it’s obvious he’s nervous and upset.

It’s been a few more years, and he doesn’t feel the same way about Jack -he does his best to assure them all of this-  but it still freaks him out that they’re going to be together again. Playing together again. The last time he’d made contact with Jack was to congratulate him on his engagement. Just to do it.

He’d gotten a _thanks._

He hadn’t really expected anything else. Jack had spent so long pushing Kent away, pretending he didn’t exist, not _wanting_ Kent to exist, to remind him of–before. And now they’re going to be pushed together and expected to play together and Kent knows… he knows he’ll be able to because they’re both that good, but playing on the ice and interacting off it are two different things and Kent’s the captain and _Jack_ –

Thinking about it, he spends a lot of time just trying to breathe.

So they’re all a little wary when Jack shows up, along with a bundle of Southern sunshine. Eric (call me Bitty!) Bittle was a whirlwind of cheer and baked goods, and he obviously wanted to get along with the team and wanted Jack to get along with the team, and was not above bribery to do it.

Except… when he goes around and introduces himself, he stops when he gets to Kent.

“Kent Parson,” he says. “My! Well, Jack’s expecting to play hard. I do hope things work out.”

“Thanks Bittle,” Kent mumbles, eyes dropping to the floor.

The guys are a little less receptive to Bittle after that.

 

—

 

But Jack’s still on their team, and they still _are_ a team, so they do try their best to get along with him. And Kent’s playing fantastic on the ice. It’s just off the ice where he’s having trouble.

“We have to include him in team bonding,” he says stubbornly, even while he won’t make eye contact. “Him and Bittle both. It’s important. He’s part of the team.”

“Okay Kent,” Swoops assures him. “Okay.” And that’s when Jack and Bittle are invited over for a game night at Swoops’ house later in the week. In some way it made Kent happy, and that’s what’s important.

 

—

 

Bitty starts to notice something… off when interacting with the Aces. It’s not that they aren’t perfectly friendly, if a little aloof (and he understands that, if Kent got to them first, told them… whatever he did about Jack) but they… they crowd in close to Kent. Maybe too close. And they watch him. All the time, and Kent flinches once in a while for no real reason that Bitty can see and…

And it’s something. He doesn’t know what yet.

 

—

 

It’s dumb, but Kent gets flashes of memories at the weirdest times for no reason now with Jack around, reminding him of how he failed, all the things he did wrong, and he can’t help but flinch a little reacting to them. Every time he does though, someone moves closer to him, a buffer against the world.

It helps.

 

—

 

Bitty is headed to the lockers early one day, humming to himself, tray of cookies in hand. He’s going to leave it in Jack’s locker to share with everyone, and hope that they’ll be taken by baked goods like so many others have. Because it’s not like they aren’t treating Jack well (and they just recently got invited to a game night at Swoop’s house, which was very nice, a step in the right direction) but every little bit helps.

He’s _not_ expecting, when he pushes open the door, to see Kent backed up against the lockers, DJ’s hands boxing him in. Kent’s own hands are pressed to the lockers behind him and he looks like he’s barely holding himself up, eyes squeezed shut, as DJ kisses him. They both spin to look at him. Kent, mouth puffy and red, bashes his head against the lockers and Bitty winces, shaking off his shock, and takes a step forward.

“Are you o–”

DJ steps in front of Kent, blocking him from Bitty, and glares. “Don’t you fucking tell Jack about this,” he spits. “Don’t tell anyone. Don’t you fucking dare.”

“I–I wouldn’t!”

“DJ,” Kent says quietly, “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

“Don’t start with that shit again, Kent.” DJ growls, rounding on him after throwing Bitty one last look.

Bitty beats a hasty retreat, tray still in hand.

 

—

 

Kent is in early, because he always is, and DJ’s with him because DJ’s in early too, now that he’s sleeping over at Kent’s place every night.

“I wish it were easier,” Kent says in the quiet of the locker rooms. “I don’t know why it isn’t. It’s been years.”

“We’ll help you forget,” DJ says, trying not to sound too desperate. He hates that Kent is hurting.

“Please,” Kent whispers, and that’s all DJ needs to back him up against the lockers and kiss him, trying to pour his feelings into it, how much he cares, how _important_ Kent is.

Then the door opens, and it’s Bittle of all people, and Kent jerks back so hard he hits his head on the lockers. DJ’s torn between fussing over him and shielding him from Bittle. “Don’t you fucking tell Jack about this,” he glares, knowing that it’s the last thing Kent would want, for Jack to know anything about him now, for Jack to have something that he could use to take away Kent’s happiness even if he isn’t trying, “Don’t tell anyone. Don’t you fucking dare.” He likes Bittle well enough, but this is too important.

“I–I wouldn’t!”

“DJ,” Kent says quietly, “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

Kent only says that when he isn’t, and DJ can only growl, “Don’t start with that shit again, Kent,” because Kent can’t–he can’t retreat like last time, he _can’t._

Bittle leaves and DJ cups Kent’s face in his hands. “Don’t,” he says softer. “Please. Don’t push us away again. Please.”

“Never,” Kent says fiercely. DJ pulls him into a hug.

 

—

 

DJ’s perfectly civil to Bitty the next day.

 

—

 

Kent has to talk to DJ, calm him down. “Please don’t change how you treat him. He’ll talk to Jack and it’ll make things worse.”

For Kent, DJ can do that. He’s perfectly civil to Bittle the next day.

 

—

 

It–it happens again.

Not with DJ.

They’re over at Swoops’ place for game night, and they’re actually getting along with everyone. Jack’s losing horribly at Mario Kart and they’re all laughing and passing chirps back and forth, and Bitty feels warm seeing everyone so lighthearted. Kent’s, well, he’s kind of quiet, but he smiles whenever someone looks at him, even if he begs off playing a game.

Bitty excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and someone absentmindedly points him to it. When he gets there he’s a little surprised to find it’s a bedroom, but then he notices the door off to the side that leads to a full bath.

He finishes washing his hands and as he opens the door, hears voices. Kent’s he can tell. And… Carter? He sounds angry.

“–not fooling anyone–”

Bitty peeks out. Carter’s got Kent pinned against the bed, hands on his shoulders.

“Carter please, don’t,” Kent sounds desperate. “Please don’t–”

He stumbles back and goes to flush the toilet again, turns on the sink, making as much noise as he can.

When he opens the door this time, no one’s there.

Kent and Carter are playing pool. Kent takes one look at him coming out of the bedroom and his eyes widen before he averts them.

Carter glances at Bitty and then says something to Kent, who nods.

He keeps his distance from both Bitty and Jack for the rest of the evening.

 

—

 

Carter sees the brittle smiles Kent keeps forcing out and, when he can’t take it anymore, ushers Kent into the bedroom so they have some privacy.

Kent sits on the bed and Carter moves in close, rubbing at Kent’s shoulders.

“Kent, we can’t have them over again. It’s hurting you.”

“It’s fine! It is. We need to be a team.”

“You think we can’t tell you’re pretending? You’re not fooling anyone–”

“Carter please, don’t.” This close, he can see Kent swallow. “Please don’t–”

Carter sags, rests his head on Kent’s shoulder. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. But you come to us, alright? Anytime you’re feeling like this, don’t just hide, _come_ to us.”

“…I will. I promise.”

They hear the toilet flush, and Carter frowns, because if he’d known someone was in here, he would’ve just taken Kent upstairs. “C'mon,” he says gently, tugging Kent off the bed. “I’m gonna kick your ass at pool.”

It’s Bittle of all people, who comes out of the bedroom. Carter immediately goes to murmur to Kent, “It’s okay. He didn’t hear a thing. It’s okay.”

Kent nods, but he keeps his distance from Zimmerman and Bittle for the rest of the evening anyway. To be honest, Carter’s kind of glad.

 

—

 

It’s little things. Artemi and Smithy bracketing Kent on a bench sitting just a little too close and speaking to him in low tones. Kent’s voice carries over the ice and Bitty can make out, “I’m yours, you know I’m yours,” like he’s trying to assure them, like he’s pleading. “I just, I can’t–please–”

“Are ours,” Smithy says voice hard. “Ours, Kent.”

“I know, I am, I am–”

And that’s when Jack comes over to him and Bitty turns away but–

 

—

 

It’s little things. Jack had passed a beautiful shot over to Kent, who’d caught it and slammed it in past Smithy without even looking. Like old times.

After, he sits on the bench trying to breath because there so many bad things, bad memories about “old times” and Jack, and Artemi comes over to sit next to him, followed by Smithy a moment later.

“Kent?” Artemi asks quietly.

“I don’t know why I’m all mixed up,” Kent grits out. “I–I don’t even _care_ anymore, not really. I don’t love him. I’m _yours,_ you know I’m yours. I just, I can’t–please–”

“Are ours,” Smithy says immediately, pressing in as close as he can, Artemi warm on his other side. “Ours, Kent.”

“I know, I am, I am– I don’t know why I can’t just get _past_ this.”

“He only here one week so far,” Artemi says. “You getting used to him again. Will get better.”

“God, I hope so.”

 

—

 

It’s little things. Jeff putting an almost possessive hand on Kent’s shoulder when Jack asks Kent a question. Kent swallowing and looking to it, before turning back to Jack.

 

—

 

It’s little things. Jack asks him a question and then Jeff is there, not even saying anything, just putting a hand on his shoulder. A solid, steady support. And Kent can do this. He’s going to get better. He turns back to Jack.

 

—

 

Sometimes it’s bigger things. He hears voices down a hall and goes to investigate. A part of Bitty will always be wary about big empty sports areas and the chance someone could be–

Scared.

Swoops is standing behind Kent, arms wrapped around his torso, keeping Kent in place. “–know what you need,” he’s murmuring, the sound bouncing back in the hall. “And you do need it, don’t you?”

Kent shudders against him, lets out a desperate, desperate sound. “I–please–” He shifts in the hold and Swoops grabs onto his wrists, mouths at his neck, the response a choked-off little noise, almost a sob. Bitty stifles a gasp and leaves the way he came.

It, it can’t be what it all looks like, it can’t–

 

—

 

Sometimes it’s bigger things. Like Swoops pressing behind him, holding him close. “I think I know what you need,” he murmurs. “And you do need it, don’t you?”

Kent shudders against him, letting Swoops hear how much he wants. “I–please–” because he does, he needs Swoops here with him, reminding him of good things. How he made it. He moved past what had happened even if sometimes–

That night, Swoops blindfolds him, carefully ties him down, and takes him slow and sweet. After, he holds Kent close, massages his wrists, tells him how good he is.

 

—

 

Bitty goes in to check the next day.

Kent’s got–he’s got hickeys on his neck, big purple splotches.

His wrists are bruised.

Bitty’s eyes fill with tears. He–he needs to talk to Jack.

 

—

 

The bruises make Kent feel better. He just needs to press into one and he remembers the night before, all the other nights before.

Jack is there, but it’s okay. It feels easier, now. And it’ll keep getting easier.

He breathes.

 

—

 

“Jack?” Bitty says hesitantly. They’re sitting together watching TV. It’d been a long day of practice for Jack, and Bitty had spent most of it trying to edit his latest vlog and not being able to concentrate. He’d baked six pies.

Jack takes one look at him and mutes the TV. “What’s wrong?”

Even now, all knotted up inside, it strikes Bitty how much he loves Jack. How good he is.

Everyone deserves to have something good in their lives.

“It’s… it’s Kent,” Bitty says.

“Is he bothering you?” Jack asks, frowning.

“No, no, he’s been–he’s been perfectly nice to me.” And he has been. Kent has tried his best to welcome him and Jack. He’s been extending the olive branch since they got here. He’s… he’s a good captain.

“Okay.” Jack accepts this easily. He knows as well as Bitty that Kent has been trying. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I think he’s hurting,” Bitty forces out. It makes his chest tight to say it out loud. Like it–like it might be _real._ “I think… I think someone is hurting him.”

“What?” Jack looks startled. And then angry. “Who?”

Bitty starts to cry. “I think it’s the team. At least part of it. I think they’re–I–oh Jack, I’ve _heard_ them. And he sounded so sad a-and scared and I remember what that’s like b-but I don’t think i-it’s just–I th-think it’s _m-m-more,_ ” Jack pulls him into his lap, closing his arms around him as Bitty sobs. “And I d-don’t know w-what t-to do. I don’t know–w-when it was me, I was so sc-scared but I couldn’t tell a-anyone,” Jack rubs at his back and Bitty tries to keep going, “And if I’m right,” he gasps, “Jack, if I’m right, he’ll feel like he doesn’t have a choice, that he has to–he’ll feel like he _has_ to-”

“Bitty,” Jack interrupts, soft but stern. “Has to _what?”_

So Bitty tells him.

Jack’s arms tighten.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jack says hoarsely, when Bitty is done and sobbing again. “Even if I’ve got to keep them all away myself, we’ll figure it out.”

 

—

 

Jack won’t leave him alone.

Jack won’t leave him alone, and it is _freaking Kent out_.

They interact fine on the ice, always did, and off the ice they were perfectly cordial to each other, and went their separate ways. It was fine, Kent figured. The entire team doesn’t have to be in each other’s pockets. Some people show up and play and then go home again. As long as you and your team get along… anything else is just icing.

And he’d been happy with the slight distance he and Jack had settled on. Kent isn’t sure if he knows how to be Jack’s friend anymore. It had been so long, so long with Jack ignoring him, refusing to let him back in, and that had _hurt_. It had hurt so much and once Jack came back, albeit not entirely of his own free will, Kent hadn’t known what to do. His best friend had almost died and then acted, continuously and ruthlessly, like Kent was the one who was dead, and now–

Kent had been happy to keep Jack at the edge of his periphery, is all.

But now Jack’s everywhere. On the ice and off, waiting in the locker rooms until Kent leaves, showing up early in the morning when Kent walks in with DJ. He and Bittle both are constantly inviting Kent over, and every time he defers, they look… upset. Truly upset.

But it doesn’t make him more willing to be around them. He doesn’t deserve to do that to himself.

“I can’t,” he says one day. “It’s movie night with Artemi.” And Artemi, who is right there, grins and slings an arm over Kent’s shoulders and–Jack’s expression flickers. Kent still knows his expressions, even now, and Jack looks _furious_ before he settles back to calm.

“Alright,” he says. “Next time?”

“Right,” Kent says, “Um. Maybe.” Artemi starts to tug him away, and there’s that expression again, the concealed fury, “I really should go–”

Bittle approaches him in the parking lot one evening. Jeff’s already waiting in the car, and Carter is right behind Kent, hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, uh, Carter and Jeff invited me out.”

He watches Bittle swallow, look up at him with big, big eyes. “Um, okay. Next time?”

“…Sure. Next time.”

and the next time, “I uh, I would but, DJ’s staying over at my place and we had already sort of planned a night in?”

“Okay Kent,” Jack says, and Kent maybe presses back against DJ anyway, because he’s strong and solid and Kent has what he needs and Jack can’t take that away “Okay.” Jack watches and…Kent doesn’t know what he sees, but whatever it is makes him clench his jaw. “Just… don’t be a stranger, alright? And call me if you need anything.”

“What the _fuck?”_ DJ says, once Jack’s walked away.

“I don’t know! I don’t know and it’s driving me crazy. First he was pretending I didn’t exist and now he–now– I wish he’d just pick a side and _stay there–_ ”

“Easy,” DJ says pulling Kent in for a hug. “We’ll figure it out. Now let’s go, yeah? Smithy’s waiting for us.”

 

—

 

Now that Bitty’s told him of his suspicions, Jack starts paying more attention. And he does notice a lot more. Someone’s always got a hand on Kent’s shoulder, or pressing on his back. They lead him away when Jack approaches, or stand right behind, next to, in front of Kent, an intimidating presence.

They’re not unpleasant. They’re not even impolite. But they are immovable. And they are always, always there. Kent always gets in with DJ and usually someone else. Always leaves with at least two of them, if not more. They call him over to eat with them, surround him during practice breaks. It’s like Kent can’t away from them.

It’s possessive.

It’s like more then _that,_ he thinks. Kent had been jittery before but now he looks tired all the time and he startles when Jack talks to him. Carter or Swoops or fuck, _any_ of them come up next to him and he settles.

Jack doesn’t know what to do.

 

—

 

Kent doesn’t know what to do. Jack and Bittle seem to just turn up fucking everywhere now. He can’t get away from them. And Jack’s started showing obvious tension, stark and silent in the lockers, not meeting anyone’s eyes or meeting them too intently. He’d been getting along with everyone fine for the most part, even if some of Kent’s core group were still a little wary around him, but now it’s like he’s angry at everything. And Kent does his best to not let it get to him, it can’t be because of something he did, he reminds himself of this over and over but–

But whatever’s going on with Jack has been bleeding out onto the ice.

And Kent’s the captain. It’s his job to talk to his team and see what’s up.

Ergo.

Facing Jack and whatever his issues are.

So he bites the bullet and takes them up on, yet another, offer of dinner over at their place.

It’ll be the first time he’ll really be away from _his_ team in–in a long time.

He steels himself before he goes, and he has plans to go straight to Swoops’ house once he’s done. Everyone else promised they’d be waiting for him, having dinner and a game night of their own while they waited. Smithy had whispered a number of things in his ear, and Kent takes that, takes Jeff kisses, all their little touches and says to himself, _This is what I have. I am so lucky. I have this and I get to keep having this._ Swoops knows that the night in with them will be a reward for going, a motivation to get through it. Kent at least has something to look forward to.

Even if it isn’t pressing on Jack’s buzzer and going up to their apartment, bottle of wine in hand.

 

—

 

Bitty is nervous, fretting, checking and rechecking the waiting dishes, the table settings. Kent’s finally accepted their invitation and Bitty’s almost positive it’s the first time he’s been able to get away from his team in–in a long time.

“What if I say the wrong thing?” he asks Jack, who’s at least calmer, steadier, even though Bitty can see that his hands are shaking. “What if I say the wrong thing and he retreats? I–I Jack, I just want him to be _safe_. Give him a safe space to be, even if… even if it’s the only thing I can give him.”

Jack pulls him in close, tucks Bitty against him. “We’ll just talk to him. That’s all we’ll do. We’ll let him know he can come to us if he needs to. If he can.”

The buzzer sounds out loud in the apartment, and Bitty pulls away from Jack to let Kent in. He brushes away tears and straightens himself out, clears his throat. He will be a perfect, happy host and maybe Kent will be able to settle. Will try to come over more often. He’s the captain; the team _can’t_ protest if Kent’s just trying to bond with the newbie.

He hopes Kent will be comfortable. Kent has looked anything but since… well, since Bitty first laid eyes on him. And Bitty hadn’t been the… friendliest.

He regrets that so, so much now.

“It’ll be fine,” Jack says, when there’s a knock on the door and Bitty jumps. “It’ll be fine.” He sounds like he’s trying to assure himself, too.

 

—

 

“Um, hey,” Kent says, pushing the bottle of wine into Bitty’s arms. “Thanks uh, thanks for inviting me.” He looks nervous, unsure, and Bitty’s heart goes out to him.

“Of course! You’re um, you’re team. And I–I want to be friends. I wasn’t… I know we got off on the wrong foot so. So I wanted to try again.”

Kent swallows. “Uh, okay. Sure?”

“Come in, come in!” Bitty ushers him inside, goes to put the wine away.

Kent sort of trails after him. “So… how are you guys liking Vegas?” he asks.

“It’s interesting,” Bitty says. “A lot to get used to. And I’m used to hot, but not dry hot, so that’s, that’s different for me. Jack still thinks he’s dying every time he goes outside.” He smiles, trying to share the joke. Kent just looks uncomfortable. “Well, um, well I hope you’re hungry, because I know how hockey players eat, so I made a lot of food.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

It doesn’t get better. Kent is skittish all through dinner, jumping whenever Jack asks a question about his life outside of hockey. Eventually the only thing they _do_ talk about is hockey, but it at least seems to settle something in Kent. They make it all the way to dessert, and Bitty dishes up coffee and apple pie and that’s when Kent clears his throat.

“So,” he says. “Uh. Jack. You know how you said I could always talk to you, right?”

“Yes,” Jack says immediately. “Always.” Bitty holds his breath.

“So what’s going on?” Kent looks the most focused he has all night. “You’ve been angry about something, and you’re taking it out on the team and on the ice. It’s affecting your playing and… I want to know what’s up. If, you know, if there’s something I can do.”

Bitty closes his eyes. Kent’s a _good_ captain.

Jack, bless him, just nods. “I know I haven’t been playing my best. I’m sorry about that.”

“Okay but like. What’s the matter?” Kent frowns. “Is someone on the team bothering you?”

Jack glances over at him, and Bitty doesn’t know what to do. Jack doesn’t know what to do.

And then Kent nods and says, “Okay. So that’s it. Who? I’ll talk to them.”

“You don’t have to,” Jack says quickly. “It’s fine. I don’t want to make trouble.”

Kent rolls his eyes and it’s the most personality Bitty has seen him have off the ice in ages. “C'mon Jack, I’m talking to you, aren’t I? You’re already making trouble. So, who is it?”

“I…” Jack meets Kent’s eyes. “No one’s been bothering me. Not… no one’s been bothering _me_.”

“I–okay?” Kent frowns and then– “Wait, is someone bothering _Bittle?”_

Bitty swallows and can’t bring himself to speak. This isn’t fair. It’s not fair that Kent is trying to look out for them when–

When he–

“Fuck no, that crosses like, every line,” Kent says, and it’s clear he’s getting riled up. “I–who is it? That shit does not fly with me. The team should _know_ that. Who is it?”

Jack presses his lips together, and Kent turns to Bitty. “C'mon Bittle, just let me know. I’m the captain, they’ll listen to me, at least enough to leave you alone.”

Bitty can’t help it. He bursts into tears.

 

—

 

 _Oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit_ , One minute Kent’s trying to help out, trying to figure out what’s bothering them, and the next minute Bittle is crying on him and Jack looks really angry and Kent’s pretty sure he’s about to get decked. Which would be _really_ hard to explain to the guys and expect them to keep cool, and the last thing Kent needs is another reason for Jack to rip things apart.

“I’m sorry!” he says panicking, looking between Bittle and Jack. “I didn’t–I’m sorry? Listen I–I promise I can so something about it.” Bittle only cries harder and Kent seriously does not know what to do.

“I’m sorry,” Bittle sniffs after a long, long moment. He wipes at his face, “I’m so sorry Kent, I didn’t mean to do that, no one’s hurting me, I–”

“We’re worried about you,” Jack says,taking up where Bittle left off. And what? “We–we’ve noticed some um, some things about how you and a few of the guys… interact?”

Kent reels back as if stung. Fuck, no, this isn’t _fair_ , this isn’t something they get to try to take away, “That’s your problem?” he ends up saying. “That’s–I don’t need your approval for what I do, Jack!”

“Kenny, please–”

“Don’t call me that!” That’s a name from before, back when they were friends, and it’s not a name Jack gets to use now, after _years_ of pushing Kent away. “It’s, it’s not your business. It’s not.”

“No,” Bittle gasps, “Of course, of course we know that, we just–we just want to be here for you if–if you need us.”

“Thanks,” Kent says flatly, “But I actually have a handle on my own life.”

“Please, we only want to help–”

“I have to go,” Kent says, because he does. “The guys are waiting for me.” And he needs them right now.

Bittle starts out and out _sobbing._ And shit what is this _about?_ “You don’t have to, you don’t have to go to them–”

“Yes I _fucking do,_ ” Kent says–yells, really, because he’s had enough, crying or no. “They’re what I _have._ ”

“Kent,” Jack says, and he sounds almost like he’s begging. “They don’t have to be.”

Kent sucks in a breath, swallows hard. And–and Jack might be an Ace now, but they’re clearly not on the same team. “Fuck you both,” he says, before turning around and making a break for the door.

He doesn’t look back.

 

—

 

Swoops takes one look at him and hustles him down to the basement where everyone else is waiting.

Carter pulls Kent into his lap, and they all take turns petting him, running their hands over his body, whispering how important he is, how much they care about him.

“Fuck em,” Jeff says fiercely, and Kent agrees.

 

—

 

It’s a tense couple of days.

The upside of it all is that Kent’s definitely no longer intimidated by Jack or Bittle. He squares his shoulders and looks them in the eyes, dares them to say _anything_ bad. He’s a demon on the ice and he and Jack still play well, Jack angry too, and somehow it works.

Off the ice Jack still lingers in the dressing room while Kent changes at normal speed, not rushing because he shouldn’t have to. Smithy sticks close anyway, acts as a buffer that Kent appreciates.

 

—

 

“We made it worse,” Jack tells Bitty, utterly drained. “They won’t even let him out of their sight.”

 

—

 

Artemi and Smithy stay over, Jeff and Carter the next night, DJ and Swoops the night after that, and Kent is more grateful for them every day.

 

—

 

“Kent,” Jacks asks on the ice, the only time Kent isn’t surrounded, “Please just promise me they’re not hurting you.”

Kent stares at him. “You’ve hurt me more.”

 

—

 

“Alright, that’s fucking it,” Jeff says to Swoops after a week of this. “The atmosphere is shit, he’s dragging everyone down, even Luddy, and Luddy just had a _kid_ he’s a blissed-out motherfucker. I’m going to tell him right the fuck off.”

“I’ll come with,” Swoops growls. He’s frankly had enough of Jack too.

Artemi and DJ distract Kent while Jeff and Swoops follow Jack out of the locker room.

“What.” Jack bites out, when he turns around.

“You need to pull your head out of your ass,” Jeff hisses. “You may have issues with my boy, but you do not get to treat him or any of us like you’re all so high-and-mighty. What we have fucking works, okay, and either get with the program or you will have half the team, if not more, lobbying to cut your contract short for disruptive conduct, I don’t _care_ how good you play.”

“How dare you,” Jack says, taking a step forward. “How dare you act like you’re not in the wrong, that you’re not _hurting_ him–

"What the fuck are you talking about?” Swoops says. “You’re the one acting like we’re all scum under your feet. I get what we’ve got is a little unorthodox but we would never, ever fucking hurt him. So back off or I will _break_ you.”

“You’re actually saying you think what you’re doing is okay–”

“What the fuck is going on!” They all turn around, and there’s Kent, bristling, and walking straight up to Jack, Artemi and DJ trailing after him looking upset. “You do not get to do this to me, to us,” he spits. “You do not get to try to take this away. I have never been happier in my whole goddamn life, and just because it isn’t some fairy-tale twosome that you and Bittle’ve got does not make it any less important or any less real.”

Jack sucks in a breath, takes a step back. “You… you really want this. Want them.”

Kent narrows his eyes. “I don’t know how else to fucking spell it out for you.”

Swoops curls an arm around Kent’s shoulders and glares, Jeff, DJ, and Artemi matching his expression. “You don’t get to judge us for loving him.”

Jack stumbles back another step.“I–oh god, I, Kent, I’m so sorry.”

“…what?”

“I thought, Bitty heard–and I–You’re happy,” he breathes. “You’re happy.”

“Not right _now,_ I’m not.”

“No but… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to Bitty. I’ll–they _love_ you. That’s what–oh god, it was me, wasn’t it. I fuck, I–I–”

Kent can see his chest rising and falling too rapidly, and he’s next to Jack before he can think. “Breathe,” he says, because this part he remembers too, “In and out, just listen to me, okay? You’re fine. I–I can call Bit–ty. I can call Bitty. You want me to?”

Jack shakes his head and holds up a hand, sinking to the floor. “Sorry,” he gasps, “Sorry–”

Kent flicks his eyes to the guys and they all nod. “We’ll wait for you outside,” DJ murmurs, as they leave.

Kent crouches down next to Jack. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Hey, hey look at me. I don’t know what’s going on, but I get you’re sorry. It’s okay. It’s okay. Just breathe, alright? In for four, out for four. In and out. I–Jack, I love them so much. All of them, in so many ways, for so many different reasons. In for four, out for four. And I don’t know where you and Bitty got the idea that it was something bad, but it isn’t, it wasn’t, it never was. In and out. Breathe.” He alternates between counting out breaths and telling Jack about his life, letting him in for the first time since Jack got here.

“…thank you,” Jack says later, after he’s calm again. “And I am so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I thought–we thought–”

Kent plays back how Jack and Bitty have been acting towards him, the conversation at the disaster of a dinner, Jack’s barely-concealed rage. “I don’t know how or why,” he says eventually, “But you were wrong. And I’m asking you if we can get past this.”

Jack nods immediately. “And I’ll talk to Bitty. Maybe… maybe we could have you over again. Um. Or… more of you.”

Kent’s eyebrows shoot towards his hairline. “Are you serious?”

“I’ll talk to Bitty. But yeah. I don’t think he’d say no.”

 

—

 

Bitty bursts into tears again when Jack tells him how wrong they were, but Jack knows the difference between happy crying and upset crying, so all he does is hold Bitty close while he alternates between relief and making plans.

“I n-need to tell him how so-sorry I am, I c-can’t imagine what he must _th-think_ of me,”

“I think he forgives us.”

“– and I’m so glad, I’m so glad–”

“Me too.”

“We need to have him over again, all of them, we have to apologize–I’m so _glad–_ ”

“Yes.”

Bitty bakes a giant batch of cookies and Jack takes it in, gives it to Kent. “From us,” he says quietly. “Neither of us expect you to forgive us right away, but if you could–if you could just give this to them. It’s the start of an apology.”

“…thanks.” Kent takes the Tupperware container.

 

—

 

Of course, DJ, Swoops, Atermi, and Jeff had all _been_ there for Jack’s realization and his subsequent panic attack, and they’re pretty quick to fill Smithy and Carter in. None of them really believe it, but–

“I still can’t decide if I want to rip his head off or pat him on the back,” Jeff says over dinner.

“Same,” from DJ, who’s gripping his fork. “Like on the one hand he thought we were _abusing you–”_ That’s been a big sticking point for DJ, and he’s been the maddest about it.

Kent kicks him gently under the table. “And we set him straight,” he says, before DJ can work himself up.

“Zimmerman try to protect,” Smithy says, to DJ, to all of them. Repeating what they all know. And isn’t that just fucking unbelievable. “Try to _protect_. Looking out for Kent. Like we do. Just for wrong reason.”

“Yeah.” DJ settles back. “Yeah.”

“And we’re good now, right?” There’s still been tension in the locker room, but Jack’s been meek, been giving all of them space, and playing even better somehow.

“Guess so,” Carter says. “But… how do you feel about it?”

“Me?” Kent asks.

“Yeah. You told us what happened but not… how you feel.”

Kent thinks about it. “I feel better,” he says eventually. “Lighter. Like… we actually put everything behind us. He’s not… he’s trying to be friends. And I think we… we could be. I don’t think he’s going to up and leave again. I don’t think he would. But if he did… I think I’d be okay.”

“Good,” Artemi says firmly. “Is good. Always want you’re being okay.”

“Yeah.” He’s got his team, and Jack is… is there. And those things both exist as facts and that’s alright.

It’s a start.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [justwritins](http://justwritins.tumblr.com/) on tumblr and I'm total cp trash right now. Come say hi!  
> 


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